We'll Always Have Paris

a.k.a. "Part II of the Happy Anniversary Story"

I couldn't possibly fit it ALL yesterday. Please read yesterday's post if you want the first part of this story. But of course the story continues. Geez. We didn't get married during his one week visit! This was just a 'meet week'...and in my humble opinion it went quite well.

But things aren't always dreamy. Things aren't always 'perfect'. Recall that I had my 'Italy' trip planned for March. I didn't want to wait until March to see him again. And it just so turns out Del.ta was running a special that week on January ticket prices. I bought. I was going there 2 months before my so-called vacation to spend a week on 'his side' of town.

But again. Things aren't always dreamy.

Two weeks after he returned home from 'meet week' he called me with some bad news. First bad news...he had started a new job and wasn't going to have any time off to share the week with me in January. Second bad (worse) news...one month before starting our online escapade, he had ended a 3 year relationship. She wanted to 'try again'...he felt really good about the relationship we had begun, but felt he had to at least consider her proposal as she, after all, didn't live on the other side of the world. January was off.

I was heartbroken. Absolutely heartbroken. I was 100% sure I was supposed to be with this man. I knew he was so right for me. But logic wins out. After all. He lived across the ocean. There was just nothing rational about this relationship. How could it ever work? I cried. A lot. Heartbreak sucks.

Life goes on...no matter what. We had a trip planned...so I could at least be excited about that...until one week before departure. In March. My former friend that had planned this adventurous trip with me met a guy. In light of her newfound boyfriend, she decided she didn't really need to go on a trip to Italy with me. (And people wonder why I don't have that many friends) SUCK. Canceling out one week before the flight leaves. Bitch.

This will not stop me. I am going to Italy. I am, also, going to France. I had always wanted to see Paris...and here was my perfect opportunity. I changed my flight to give me a 3 day stopover in Paris. Arranged for hotel. Scheduled a 10 day tour through Italy with a group that was touring during that time. (I wasn't adventurous enough to see an entire country alone for the first time). I am woman, hear me roar my way through Europe all alone!

The night before leaving I couldn't sleep. Entirely too nervous. I was online. I heard the dreamy IM chime. It was him. "How are you?"....

Should I answer? No. No Way. He probably had some girlfriend now. No way. I'm not answering.
"I'm leaving for Europe in the morning." <--you didn't seriously think I wouldn't answer, did you? "I've decided to go to Paris first, I've always wanted to go there."

"So you'll be in Paris tomorrow?...........Can I meet you?"

I do not like when people joke with me about such serious matters. Bullshit. This man is not going to make it from Milan to Paris by tomorrow morning, and I don't want to get my hopes up, because then I'll just be disappointed and spend the rest of my trip sad and bummed out about it. No way. No way. No way. But what the hell.

"Where are you staying? Just tell me the name of your hotel. I'll take the overnight train and meet you there in the morning."

"The Hotel Opera. I'll be in around 8am."

I don't believe him. Who really just spontaneously decides to take an 18 hour train trip? And to meet....me? I'm nobody that special. Hell. These things only happen in movies...and I'm no movie-star type. I'm just a chubby nurse from Georgia. He won't be there.

The next day I arrived at the airport to hop on my Air.France flight to Paris. The flight was packed. The flight was delayed 3 hours. Crap. I hate flying. I arrived in Paris at 11am the next day. 3 hours later than my anticipated and shared time of 8am. Crap. He won't be there. My planned transport service to the hotel was long gone given my stupid flight delay. I found a cab to rip me off. I've only since learned in my travels that Airport to City cabs are supposed to be flat rate. This ass.hole charged me nearly 60 dollars. Whatever. We were here.

We pulled up to the Hotel Opera. I walk around the back of the taxi to get my bag. And someone else picks it up for me. He was THERE! No freakin' WAY! I don't know if I have ever been so happy. Ever. At check in the hotel attendant said, "He has been here since 7am this morning, we were starting to think no one was coming to meet him."

Paris was magical. Three of the best days of my life. I felt like I was in a dream. Love.

I still went on my Italian Tour alone. I paid a lot of money for that and didn't want to miss the opportunity to see that country top to bottom for anything. I gave him the hotel names and dates of the tour and he promised he would see if he could get away from work to meet me at any of those destinations as well.

Wouldn't you know when our bus pulled up a week later in Rome, he came strolling out of the hotel with a big grin on his face. All the retirees on my tour bus ('cause let's face it, who else goes on bus tours through Italy) oohhhed and aaahhhed at his big grin when he came out to meet me.

....and so began a two-year long distance relationship...thousands of SkyMiles later here we are.

Now.....back to our regularly scheduled programming.